fresh-MEN

gone are the days of high school.

gone are the days of waiting to be asked out by boys who think a "date" is hanging out at a mutual friend's house.

Gone are the days of boys.

Here are the days of men.

fresh men.

Exhibit A.  

I hadn't had anything to eat or drink in approximately 8 or so hours because I was trying to finish a major paper for one of my classes. I was almost finished when fate cued a certain boy to text me and ask if he could meet me at the library to study for a big test. In light of the fact that the test was the next morning I said "Of course" and waited by the computers.

pause.

On paper this doesn't sound like your typical damsel-in-distress situation, but let me reemphasize that I hadn't had ANYTHING to eat or drink for 8 hours.

un-pause.

When he arrived I started to get a Huge stomachache.

Re-pause.

Note that it wasn't butterflies or anything cutesy-romantic like that, It was a major I-think-I-might-have-appendicitis-stomachache.

Re-un-pause.

So this wonderful Gentleman asked me if I was feeling alright, and if he could do anything for me. I told him that I hadn't eaten in a long time, but that I wanted to study anyway because the test was tomorrow. He asked if I was sure yatta-yatta, and with the assurance that I was, he said o.k, but he had to go to the bathroom first. I laid my head on the table while he was gone, and when he came back, he had not gone to the bathroom but (drumroll please)

 to the vending machine and had bought me a Gardetto's/orange juice "dinner" instead!


i know! please save all "awwww!"s until after the presentation.

Exhibit B. 

The rooftop ballroom story.

Once upon a time, it was an ordinary day in social dance. Class had just ended, and one of the nicest guys in my class came up and asked "have a lot of boys already asked to be your partner for the foxtrot test?" --------------I should probably mention that everyone gets to choose their partner, so a guy can dance with twenty girls who all want him as their partner, and dance with a twenty-first girl if he wants HER to be the partner he has for HIS test.--------------- Only one other boy had asked me to be his partner, so he asked  if he could be my partner/ we could practice the next day/ 3:00 was good for me.

The the next day I met him at the WILK, but due to a lack of available floor space, we decided to practice......ON THE ROOF. No, your eyes are not deceiving you, We went up to a roof, turned on some Michael Buble/Bruno Mars and foxtrotted to our heart's content.

And he later got me involved at BYU/SA which meant free dance tickets, and they all lived happily ever after as dance partners for the rest of their days.
 

Exhibit C. 

Extra Extra! Hot off the press! This happened TODAY.

I was standing in line at the Subway cart, contemplating the actual health facts of 9 grain honey oat bread, when a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder. -----background information : there is a subway express restaurant  and a subway express CART, both of which offer the same food at the same price, but people for some reason think that the cart is less legitimate than the restaurant, and so the line is always shorter.----- and said "is there any difference between this line and (gesturing to the restaurant line) that one?"

ME: this one is shorter

HIM: but no other differences?

ME: the people in this line are smarter

HIM: sweet! I'm Michael by the way

ME: I'm Hope

MICHAEL: that's such a great name, where are you from?

ME: Salt Lake City. Not very exotic. where are you from?

MICHAEL: North Carolina

insert more small talk

MICHAEL: so did you play any sports in High School

ME: tennis

MICHAEL: Really?? I've been wanting to play for so long, we should play sometime!

ME yeah, that sounds way fun!

MICHAEL: Can I have your number so that we can go hit?

insert small talk, an interruption of ordering lunch, and more small talk

MICHAEL: so where are you eating? would you like to come eat with me and my friends?

needless to say, I ate with him and all of his sophomore friends who are in a BAND called "the fellows", and one of them gave me a massage. (I know I know, but I figure he was really nice/attractive/funny, and you don't turn down a free massage)

So basically this guy "fellows"-shipped me into his group of friends regardless of the fact that I'm a freshman, and I'm going to their concert.


There are many more examples of Fresh-men down here at the Y, and I can't wait to meet others! The best part of all is that as I get older, I'm only going to meet sopho-MORE!!!!  


 

tanner building business

The Tanner building. a.k.a the Business building at BYU.

so what business do I have going there? (sorry, couldn't resist)

Let's start at the very beginning (that's a very good place to start.) You walk in and the faint smell of chlorine jump-starts a memory of

1. when you were a kid and went swimming all the time at one of those awesome beyond awesome kid pools with crazy water toys that really aren't that fun, but look super impressive







2. when you were in middle school, and went to the local pool hang-out during the summer because it was the only cool place you could walk to

3. the high school swimming pool where you either went to practice, or went to watch meets because the guy/girl you secretly liked was on the swim team.......(let's be honest. everyone was either ON the swim team or liked someone on it at one point. must be something in the chlorine.... )

whichever era of life you most miss.

Why does the business building smell faintly of chlorine you ask? because there are circular fountains on every floor!!!!!

o.k. not cool enough for a full five exclamation points, but no other building here has fountains, so it's pretty refreshing.

next come the stairs.

Thinking of working out today? you can either go to the gym, go on a run, or walk up the tanner building stairs. seriously. pretty sure I get my cardio for the day just going up those babies.

Next is the hidden computer lab.

Are you tired of going to the library only to find that all of the computers are taken? (pretend you are for a second) Well. there is a computer lab on the second floor of the Tanner building, and it always has open computers! it's quiet, it's not freshman infested, and you actually have cellphone reception!

O.k. here comes debatably the best aspect of the business building. Well dressed men.

let me say that again.

well. dressed. men.

not well dressed boys, not adequately dressed teens. well dressed men. men in suits, men in ties, men in BOWties, men in khakis, men in shiny shoes, men with briefcases, men with swoopy hair and festive sweater vests...... muchas guapos muchachos.

And they're all really nice-- I don't think I've ever opened a door for myself while in that building.

Granted, they're all 24, but it gives me hope that boys can eventually grow up to be well-dressed, polite, school-oriented citizens. (a claim I had been beginning to lose faith in.)

The last reason why the tanner building is awesome is the cafe.

the. cafe.

Oh yes. I practically live there. 90% of the money on my meal card goes to this quaint little cafe on the bottom floor, where the sandwich makers and I are on a first-name, know-the-order basis. As soon as I get to the counter to order, Megan has already started making my turkey-bacon-club-on-sourdough-with-no-mayo sandwich to-go. And on the way out, I grab a bag of  cookies and cream Chex mix as the tanner building cafe is the ONLY place on campus that sells it. 540 calories of bliss, my friends. Bliss.

So why do I frequent, nay practically LIVE at the tanner building?

Well that's kind of my business.    

a "spark" of fun

flashback.

2000......

1990........

1980.......

1970........

1960........

1950!!!!!

let's hop to the bop. skip to the bip. rock to the roll. dudes and dudettes it's fifties time!!!

O.k. let me give you a little bit of background information. So last week was homecoming week and every day had an event. Tuesday was the "opening ceremonies" (of which I have already written.) It was  also Hike and light the Y. (also written about.)

Wednesday was a blue foam party which looked like this

yes, my friends. It was smurf turf up on that track. To this day I'm still a tint bluer than is humanly normal. 

Thursday was the BYU spectacular. O.K. guilty. I didn't go. But this was only because it cost moneys.

 next.  

Friday was the dance. --scratch that. danceS. There was a 20's dance (formal) a 50's dance (semi-formal) and an 80's dance (casual.) as you can probably guess, I went to 50's dance. 

well actually, I set up, photographed, cleaned up and attended the 50's dance. I know what you're thinking. "photographed? well then where are the pictures?" 

Answer: still in my camera. 

Longer answer: still in my camera, but I'll put some up as soon as I figure out how. 

I know what else you're thinking. (or will be in about four seconds) "well who did you go with?" Well I'm not going to go through the whole ordeal with you, but let us just be clear that it WAS an ordeal that involved five different gentlemen, but I only went with one.

 his name is Ben. 

AND it was his birthday. so, you know. no pressure or anything. 

It was a blast! and the venue was IN-CRED-I-BLE! honestly. check it out. 

right?!?!? 

i'm going to go off on a little tangent for a second because this is my new favorite place in the history of my favorite places. It's a returaunt called Spark, and it like a mormon bar and returaunt. seriously. They serve a ton of non-alcoholic cocktails and fancy shmancy food. Goal # 1 for this year = go on a date to this returaunt. O.k. now back to your regularly schedualed program. 

let's just say that was one of the best dances I've ever been to. Most of my friends went to the 80's dance but man did they miss out! The DJ played a mix between fifties and modern music, and there were --wait for it-----------------free cupcakes (but more on that later.) 

let's start with the lipstick. 

So I love wearing lipstick buuuuuuuuuut there's never really an occasion. 

So I love any excuse to wear it. 

and this. 

was one.  

alright. 

now we're going to skip over the next little bit (insert fast forwarding noises.) So I took my lipstick-ed self and my date to the totally awesome restaraunt mentioned and photographed above where we boogie-d and woogie-d all night long......or until 11:00 when we helped clean up, and each got to take home 30 free cupcakes because they ordered too many. how's that for birthday cake? we then got dropped off at our seperate dorms which meant no awkward doorstep scene at building 9. can Life get better? I submit that it cannot. 

good ridDANCE to normal weekends! 

 

Y? because I spider there.

Eating a quick lunch alone in my dorm room. Scrolling through the latest paper requirements on my roommate's computer, and listening to Katy Perry blaring from the running track that is right outside my window. This was the moment of two realizations.

1. "I kissed a girl" is not a very uplifting song, and someone is neglecting their duty to monitor the track songs, and 

2. This alone-ness is saddening.  

My busy schedule has left me somewhat socially crippled as I try to catch a few quiet moments in my dorm room  to do homework. Also, since I have apparently become a hermit, people haven't really invited me to things lately. I have become that one girl in the room who only comes out for meal times, and no one's quite sure what she looks like. 

well. 

I decided that my hermit-ude ends today. Therefore I dragged my hall-mate to the "homecoming opening ceremonies" this morning at 11:00 A.M. which turned out to be pretty fun. especially since we sat with our ward, and let's be honest. I have the rockin'est ward at BYU. 

Then I went to class (yada yada) and spent not one but TWO--count them TWO hours rehearsing my midterm with my Honors Civ. group. --------o.k. granted, it was kind of forced social interaction, but I think I still get points for the two hours thing. 

My next dynamic move was to go to the BYU/SA office. this is right up my alley because I always loved student government, but alas, I never reached the level of awesomeness where one actually gets voted into office. Here, with the help of a gentleman who took me to ballroom dance on a roof (story to come), we pulled some strings and BAM I get to help with the homecoming dance. So not only do I get to serve, but I don't have to pay for a ticket. Sweet! 

Lastly, I went straight from my last class to "light the Y"

Explanation: light the Y is a BYU tradition where students hike up to the giant Y on the mountain and screw in lightbulbs that light up the outline. 

after sufficient huffing and puffing (death by switchbacks), guess what we (I say "we" because I went with a friend = social points.) found?!?!?! 

have you guessed?  well you're wrong. it was a tarantula!! And guess what I did?

(not the actual tarantula, for visual purposes only) 

for those of you who guessed "eat it"- please seek professional counseling. no, I picked it up and held it! surprisingly it wasn't beyond a 6 on the scary-ness level. I'm not saying it will become a regular habit (heebie-jeebies)  but I decided that -since tarantulas aren't poisonous- it would be my healthy dose of overcoming fear for the week. If you would like photographic evidence, I will put it up here was soon as I figure out how.
 ok, figured it out. 

I then proceeded to light the Y and such, but now that you've heard the tarantula bit, everything else will seem really dull. 

so the end. 

except not really. 

because the scariest element of today is that I can get a date into the dance for free too, and I have no one to ask. Help!!!!!! 

 . 

sudokoo-coo criminal

Here it is. a scandalizing peek into the third floor Taylor hall girl's bathroom.

brace yourself. 

O.k, o.k. it's not really that exciting. But it WAS the scene of a crime today.A crime against what, you ask? Humanity. the laws of nature. the very rules which govern our lives and keeps the rhythm of the universe in motion. that's right. Sudoku.

Let me qualify this statement with a little bitta background knowledge. Every week one of the hall advisers for the dorm makes a cutesy-wootsty "Taylor Toilet Reader." That lists the activities for the week, a spiritual quote, a comic strip, and a cross word or something. ----not to fear, my germ-conscious readers. They are safely slipped in and out of a paper protector that hangs on the door.

anyways.

This little reader is everyone's skim milk edition of the newspaper, and every Monday, girls can't wait to rush to the lavatory.

o.k. yes, an exaggeration, but I've really been feeling the no-comics blues lately.

So THIS week, instead of the 8 letter by 8 letter word search (the words are usually things like byu, week, class, and other lengthy nouns) there was a Sudoku puzzle.

let me rephrase that.

There was a Sudoku puzzle!!!!!!

but alas! what is this? some Taylor hall chick has filled it in?? unthinkable! First of all, who brings a pencil with them when they go to the bathroom? yuck. secondly, who completes 7/8ths of the puzzle and then leaves the remaining three squares blank? you couldn't figure out what the last three number were?!?!?!

as you can see, this had me very upset. So the next time I had to go to the bathroom, I went to a different stall, in a different hall and guess what? same thing! same penciled-in numbers! same three blank squares! what kind of sick criminal was I dealing with?!

In a Sherlock Holmes moment I traveled from stall to stall hoping for some sign of humanity, some sign that this cereal Sodukuist had a heart. but woe is me, I ended up empty handed.

One thing is for sure. next Monday I am going to the bathroom at the crack of dawn, because for this week at least, I have been out-numbered.


(for your enjoyment.)

bands and a-band-onment. (see numbers 6 and 7)

I have been officially initiated into college.

You may be asking - the last month doesn't count becauuuuuuse.......?

because I hadn't had a few key experiences that validate a college status. As of last night I fulfilled the last one, and BAM! college student. the requirements are as follows

1. Sleep somewhere other than your dorm room. 

see post about squaw peak.

2. Eat ice cream and cheeze-its for dinner.  

 check.

3. Be the recipient of a cheesy pick up line. 

also check. If you are a boy, this requirement is that you have to USE  a cheesy pick up line. If you'd like some options feel free to borrow
- If I were Peter Pan, you'd be my happy thought
-Are you tired? because you've been running through my mind all day
-Your beauty just blinded me so I'm going to need your name and number for insurance reasons
- I'm glad I have a library card, because I'm checking you out
-Are you a parking ticket? because you've got FINE written all over you.

please note that none of these are effective. use at your own risk.

4. Have your day brightened when a random guy gives you a flower. 

o.k. not a requirement, but it was definitely a plus.

5. take a test at the testing center. 

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. and yet, check.

6. Have your room at the parent's house completely refurbished and transformed as if you're never coming home again. 

In my case, this includes the addition of three new pieces of significant furniture. Baby twins, and the mama. A.k.a my sister and her boys. So my ex-living space is now decorated with binkies, changing tables, hand sanitizer, diapers, and onesies with monkeys on the bum.

7. Go to a concert. 

This is the one. the last requirement that has -within the last 24 hours- been fulfilled  I went to a massive concert that showcased
the wombats 
Imagine dragons 
shrink the giant 
Awolnation 
the used 
dead sara 
neon trees 
and group love 

If you are not familiar with most of these bands...........

It's ok.

neither was I.

But out of these I recommend the Wombats, Imagine Dragons, Group love, and Neon Trees. Although If you would like to discuss the pros and cons, you may have to raise your voice a few decibels as my ears have recently aged thirty or so years.

To get the full experience we were usually in the VERY front at the VERY center right next to the stage, and let me just say that I could have done without bathing in other people's sweat, getting tossed around like a rag doll, and having my poor feet enthusiastically stomped on.

On the upside, we met, talked to, and gave most of the bands hugs. (of which I have had a shortage at college)

So now I feel legit. A real college student. I can lift my head up high when I swipe my meal card. I am no longer living in a world where I go home all the time, eat my mom's food, walk the dog, hang out with my family, and drive around Salt Lake.

.....................dang.



.

The day I realized Beautiful

*the following is my personal essay for Honors writing. It's main point is not to be funny, but I think it was an important element from my life. Enjoy mis amores! 

The Day I Realized Beautiful
 
  Would you like to play a game? It’s called High school. The rules are always changing, the dice are always loaded, and grades, friends, teachers, popularity, --pretty much every component of high school-- can be leveraged by playing your cards right.

Some strategize in favor of a personable attitude. Others make use of knowing exactly when the teacher is and is not going to check for homework. The elite few wear the SBO sweater “get out of jail free” card to leave class early.  There are all kinds of hands you can play but half way through high school, I realized that in the game of life, “pretty” is an ace in the deck.

You should probably know that I was raised blind. Not literally (although that would have made a fantastic narrative) but figuratively in that I didn’t pay much attention to beauty. My elementary school class had basically the same 26 kids from kindergarten to sixth grade, so by the time we were aware of, or placed any kind of importance on physical beauty, we knew each other well enough to get judged on it.

Consequently, junior high was a whirlwind of girls stowing lip-gloss into their trainer bras, guys sporting high end basketball shoes, and enough cheap cologne in the hallway to intoxicate a small whale. It was a materialistic side of life that I had been relatively underexposed to. Luckily however, I found a group of girlfriends who didn’t put too much stock into the “pretty” complex, so neither did I.   

Freshman. Sophomore. It was junior year in high school. My small circle of girlfriends had eventually expanded to the typical guys-and-girls group, and as luck would have it, we got some of the more popular boys. I was sitting next to three of them (due to the lucky guy-heavy class list that every girl prays for) the day I realized pretty.

 My A.P. English teacher had put in a documentary for us to watch and analyze the ethos, pathos, and logos presented in the film. I sat at my three-guys-one-girl table taking notes, when my ears heard something that my eyes would never forget.

Trevor: Dude, why are they interviewing your girlfriend?

A chorus of male voices chanted the testosterone-specific “ohhhhhhhh” in recognition of a good diss.

Mark: well where’s yours? That fat chick in the yellow dress. I think you’re going to have to buy a bigger car, cause I don’t think she’ll fit in your Subaru.

Trevor: Yeah right, like I’d ever date her. I’d have to be blind. And retarded. And don’t pretend like you didn’t think the chick in the yellow dress wasn’t hot. We all know you had a thing with Samantha Jameson in 6^th grade.

Mark: oh man. She was obsessed with me. She like stalked me.

James: Yeah. Remember when she drew a picture of you guys kissing in her planner and someone found it?

Mark: that was so creepy. And how she wears those cat ears?

Trevor: I think she’s trying to seduce you, man. She uses about a pound of make-up.

James: I hate it when girls do that. It’s so ugly!

Trevor: Except Kimmy. She (he gave a meaningful look) can definitely pull it off.

There were affirmative grunts and knowing head nods.

Mark: Don’t tell me you’re cheating on that girl on the movie. I think she wanted to take you out for a hamburger later.

Trevor: more like a triple cheeseburger. Eating it would probably be her exercise for the day.

They all laughed so I guess, to them, it was a joke. Just another way to sit through 89 minutes of repetitive interviews and poor back lighting, but to me it was the first time that beauty had really struck me as an indispensable characteristic of acceptance. I suddenly felt self-conscious, trying to work the puzzle pieces of the information they had just given me into a picture of self-awareness.  I began to wonder if I was too ugly or too fat or too anything else to be liked, or even accepted by the guy-friends who were so critical of the girls in their two dimensional world.

From then on out, I listened closely for some other criteria on which they judged girls, but ultimately, all they would talk about was “pretty.”   

I tuned in more closely to my girlfriends as well, and began to notice that 99% of the compliments they gave were related to some aspect of “pretty,” and how most of the insecurities they expressed, even jokingly, were about being ugly or undesirable.  

Between the physical critiques of girls from my guy friends, and the incessant appearance-chatter form my girlfriends; I slowly began to decipher, and eventually speak the language of “pretty”
                                                               

The Language of pretty is similar to English, except that instead of the most common word being “The” or “A” the most common word in the language of pretty is “than.” Dick is better looking THAN Jane. Jane is uglier THAN Dick. See Dick smile. See Jane try to impress Dick with her charming personality, but it doesn’t work because Dick is too consumed with beauty and doesn’t notice anyone without a small nose and naturally high cheekbones.

The other main difference between English and “pretty” is the use of suffixes. The most common suffixes in English are probably “ed” or “ing.” (RunnING, smilING, laughING, listenED, pardonED, attendED.) The most common suffixes in Pretty are “er” and “est” (loveliER, cutER, bettER, prettiEST, hottEST, happiEST,)

My speech became so polluted with speaking “pretty” around my friends, that it’s the language I began to think in. My mind was saturated in THANs, ERs and ESTs. Compliments became the currency for my self-esteem, and I eventually adopted the standard I so hated.

Obviously I realize now that this was an unacceptably shallow, flawed, and harmful way to establish self-awareness, but when everything is about the way you SEE things, you paradoxically become more and more short-SIGHTED.

In retrospect, I think I compare my former thought process to this analogy. If you base your happiness on how many elephants you own, then you’ll never be happy because elephants aren’t legal pets in America. It’s the same concept with beauty. It’s just ridiculous to base your happiness on something you will never achieve. And that doesn’t really matter much or make sense anyway.

Being immersed in the culture of pretty was exhausting. There is always someone prettier THAN you. You are never the cutEST female on the premises. And in the culture, if either of these things are true, you are deemed by default lessER than someone else, and consequently more unhappy. 

Unhappy.

A side effect of living in the pretty.

When your mind has marinated in “pretty” sewage for so long, it’s hard to be anything but unhappy and discontent.

But then came the day I realized Beautiful. A catalytic moment that I can’t even put my finger on. It wasn’t a specific event, or cutesy Young Women’s quote on matchy-matchy paper, it was just the day that I began to see how beautiful things could be when they weren’t pretty.

A garbage pile in a museum titled “Future,” a necessary but painful truth, a fast food worker who took pride in his job, a laugh that sounded like someone was sawing a log. These were all encompassed in the realm of Beautiful, and yet contradicted the standards of “pretty.”  

As my standard for the world shifts from pretty to beautiful, my standard for people is too. It adds so many components to someone’s worth other than how attractive they are. Intelligence, kindness, compassion, hilarity, honesty, creativity, determination, endurance, generosity, humility…a whole new side of life is introduced.

Sometimes I get frustrated with myself for ever having entered the “pretty” culture. It was such a waste of life, and I was so unhappy that I often wish that I could do my junior and senior years all over again. But then I remember how much joy, personal growth, and value I get from deciding to step out of the pretty. My pathway through pretty prompted me to consciously choose which characteristics are important to me, and to actively seek to find the good qualities in others that might not be apparent at first glance. 

Maybe this is why there’s a pretty culture in the first place. Because no one wants the arduous task of finding out who people really are. They simply collect the visible data most readily available to them and base their opinions on that.

Honestly, I’m still finding out what true beauty is. I know a lot about what it’s not. It’s not big baby-blue eyes, or a flat stomach, or naturally dark eyelashes. But as to what it IS, I’m still not sure.  What I do know is that it manifests itself differently in each person. It’s just harder to see than what you see.